I Just Wanna Touch Your Heart
by Breathe From Your Hoo Hoo
Summary: MarkRoger slash, AU situation. He was a rich, successful and smart doctor from the Upper West Side. And he was a poor, struggling, starving artist from the Lower East Side. So there's no way in hell these two could ever fall in love.....right?
1. The Doctor Is In

"Paging Dr. Cohen! Paging Dr. Cohen! Please report to the emergency room immediately!"

The voice crackled over the intercom as Dr. Mark Cohen ran down the hospital corridor and into the emergency room, where a pregnant woman was brought in after having a nasty fall which suddenly sent her into labour. Mark tried his best to calm her down as the poor woman panicked about the condition of her baby. Mark and the two nurses got down to work and ended up delivering a healthy baby girl by Caesarean.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Green. She's as fit as a fiddle," said Mark, smiling as he handed the bundle over the woman, who was beaming tenfold as she cradled her little bundle of joy close to her heart. The young blond smiled proudly. _Another job well done_, he thought to himself. Leaving the nurses to take care of the lady, he walked up two floors and into his office. He removed the stethoscope from around his neck and flopped down on the revolving chair at his desk, and while he rested, he admired the plaques that graced his office walls. _Mark Jeremiah Cohen, D.M.Sc. Mark Jeremiah Cohen, M.D. _He smiled to himself. He felt very proud of his education at Brown University, where he studied hard and earned himself a Masters' Degree and then a Doctorate in medical science. He couldn't believe how close he came to dropping out and pursuing a career in filmmaking. More like a hobby though, since all he had was an old camera, an even older, dilapidated projector and a pipe dream. But thanks to all the encouragement from his huge, Jewish family, who wanted him to become either a successful doctor or a lawyer, he was able to accomplish that wish, thus making them _and_ himself happy. He removed his glasses, ran a hand through his spiky, blond hair and rubbed his eyes. Just then, a knock was heard on the door.

"Mark? Hey Mark? You wanna go home now? It's getting kinda late."

Mark spun the chair around to face the voice. "Oh, hi James," he said, smiling sleepily. "Had a long day today?" He yawned after that last sentence.

James smiled back. "Oh yeah. Had this old guy today who took one too many laxatives and so he started panicking thinking he was gonna poop his guts out." The two of them shared a giggle.

"So did Dr. James Walter the Great cure him?" asked Mark teasingly.

James nodded. "Yeah. He just needed to stay off the laxatives once he was…..well, done." He nodded towards the clock. "Hey, why don't you head home now? It's late."

"It is?" Mark blinked and squinted at the digital watch on his desk, which read **2.47am**. "Holy shit, it _is_ late," he said, fighting off another yawn.

"Yeah, I thought you might wanna close up and head home," said James, taking a cigarette out of his pocket.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, I think I will soon." He glanced at the cigarette and shook his head. "I can't believe you smoke, James. I mean, come on! You're a doctor, for Christ's sake!"

The brunette doctor with a slight goatee grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "I get to tell other people they can't smoke. But that doesn't mean **I** can't smoke, now does it?" he grinned cheekily and raised an eyebrow.

Mark sighed and grinned back. "Okay I'm gonna pack up now. Seeya tomorrow?"

"Yup. Seeya!" said James, who disappeared down the hallway.

Mark yawned, blinked, and got up from his chair. After cleaning up his office, he removed his white coat, packed up his briefcase and any important documents, locked the office door behind him and left. He bid goodnight to the receptionist, then got into his blue Volkswagen and drove home to his flash apartment on the Upper West Side.

"Hey! I'm home!" he called out into the darkness as he entered the apartment and tossed his keys and briefcase on the coffee table. A quit rustling sound could he heard in the room.

"MMMM, 'bout time you got home boy," said a deep voice from the brown leather couch. Mark grinned and plopped himself down on the matching leather loveseat.

"Hey Collins, sorry I'm so late today. Had a sudden emergency with a pregnant woman who went into labour after she had a nasty fall. You didn't have to wait up for me." The sleeping figure on the couch stirred slightly and then got up.

"Nah man, it's cool. I gotta make sure my boy makes it home in one piece, right?" said the black man as he chuckled at his friend. Mark chuckled back and nodded.

"Yeah. Big strong Tom Collins, philosophy teacher and bodyguard. What would I do without you?" said the young doctor.

Collins grinned. "Getting beaten up probably." Mark threw a cushion at his head in mock anger. "Now hurry up and get to bed. It's already 3.00 in the morning."

"Yes _mother_," said Mark. "And you better do the same too." The two roommates and friends bid each other goodnight and went to their respective rooms to sleep. Mark was off in dreamland as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning, after Collins left at 9 am for an early class, the phone rang. Mark picked it up, while sipping his tea. "Hello?" said he into the receiver.

"Dr. Cohen? Good morning, it's Annabel." Mark perked up, recognising the voice of one of his nurses. "Can you please get down here as soon as you can? We have a male in his mid-twenties who brought here due to sudden sickness after eating Indian food last night, he says. His name is Davis or something like that. But he's in pretty bad shape."

"Thank you, Annabel. I'll be right there," said Mark. He gulped down the rest of his tea, grabbed his briefcase and car keys, and sped off to the hospital to attend to this new patient.

* * *

Ok I'm sure you folks must have guessed by now that this is an AU. In other words: what if Mark stayed in Browns and finished his studies instead of dropping out? What if he was never a Bohemian? What if he never met Roger until much later? What if he was professionally successful and rich enough to afford a nice house with food and heat instead of starving and freezing in the loft? Well, let us find out…… 


	2. Nice To Meet You?

Mark Cohen finally made it to the hospital at around 9.20 am. He walked into the emergency room and was greeted by a redheaded girl with braces.

"Good morning, Dr. Cohen. This is the patient I was telling you about," she said as Mark put on his white coat.

"Yes, thank you Annabel. I'll go see to him." Mark walked over to the hospital bed and nearly fell over when he saw the patient, who was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes practically rolling back into his head. The world almost seemed to stop for a minute. He was in his mid-twenties, with shaggy, dirty-blond hair, slight stubble on his face, a piercing in his left ear and a KIIS tattoo on his left arm. He was dressed in frayed blue jeans, a green muscle shirt which matched the colour of his eyes, and a leather jacket (which the nurses took off and placed on the chair). Mark's heart started thumping suddenly, while he couldn't stop staring at his eyes; which were olive green, just like his shirt, and filled with such warmth and a distinctive sparkle. _Wow, he is gorgeous_, thought Mark inside his head. He gently placed his hand across the patient's forehead and whispered, "Hello there, I'm Dr. Cohen. Do you have a name too?"

The man struggled to make his voice work but was having trouble doing so. Mark turned to another nurse and asked, "Hey Maria, did you find any ID on him at all? A license or something like that?"

Maria, the older nurse, held a little plastic card in her hand and said, "Yes, I found a driver's licence in his wallet. It says 'Roger Albert Davis'".

Mark nodded. "Thank you, Maria. Could you bring me my emergency tray please?" He turned back to the patient, Roger, who now propped himself up on his elbows and looked like he was trying to say something. Mark gently held his head and said, "Don't worry Roger. We're gonna make you all better, okay? Now, what is it you're trying to tell me?"

Roger slowly opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, his body bucked violently………….and out came a thick stream of dark, spicy vomit with thick chunks on it. The fact that half of it landed on Mark's shirt and the other half all over the freshly cleaned floor didn't exactly help either.

"What the _fuck?_"exclaimed Mark, who did a double take, glaring with disbelief at the huge, brown stain on his pale blue Van Heusen business shirt, then at Roger, who actually looked much better while Annabel and Maria got him cleaned him up and gave him some water to drink, along with some indigestion medicine. He blinked and looked at Mark apologetically.

"Oh hey there, Doc. Look, I'm really _really_ sorry about that mess, man. Seriously, I am. I promise I'll stay away from the Lamb Rogan Josh from now on." He smiled lopsidedly at Mark, a guilty look in his eyes. "Oh yeah, and they call me Roger. Roger Davis. Nice to meet ya, dude." He extended an arm for Mark to shake while still lying on the hospital bed.

Mark looked at the hand, then looked at Roger, with a mad glare in his eyes. "Yeah, likewise," he huffed, as he got up off the floor and proceeded to clean himself at the sink. "Guess I won't be needing that emergency tray anymore," he said to Maria.

Roger awkwardly drew his arm back in, then hauled himself into a sitting position on the bed. "Thanks for all the help though, Doc. Ya know, I was really curious about this new Indian place down the street. A little pricey for my budget, but my rich-ass roommate Benny was buying so, yeah……." He chuckled softly while Mark checked his heartbeat and blood pressure. "Well, he's not actually rich himself. His girlfriend Muffy is, so he just keeps sponging her money every now and then. Speaking of which, is he here? The hospital said they were going to call him and-"

Mark spun around to face him. "Will you just **shut** the **fuck** up? First you puke your guts all over my brand new Van Heusen shirt, which is a very expensive one by the way, then you have the _fucking_ nerve to act all casual and talk to me like it was nothing? You know, its filthy pigs and slobs like yourself that piss me off and make me so angry because all you care about is shooting up drugs and getting wasted!" He jabbed a finger straight at Roger's face as he said this.

Roger tried to gently push Mark's finger away from his face. "Whoa whoa _whoa_, hold on now, Doc. For your information, I've never touched a drug after my withdrawal several years ago and I don't drink as much as you think I do. And secondly, all I asked you was if you guys contacted my roommate or not." As if on cue, a tall, bald black man slowly stuck his head into the emergency room. Mark sighed in relief.

"Umm, is Roger Davis here?" he asked tentatively. Roger waved to him.

"Hey dude, over here," he said, beckoning to the man, who walked in and stood next to Roger. "Hey Doc, this is my roommate and old friend Benny, also known as _Benjamin Coffin III_." He pronounced the name with an exaggerated, mock British accent, which made Benny roll his eyes and Mark giggle internally (although he wasn't about to admit it). "And Benny, this is my saviour, Dr. Coran."

"It's _Cohen_" said Mark with frustration. He stuck his arm out and brusquely shook Benny's hand. "Nice to meet you, Benjamin."

"Nice to meet you too, Dr.," said Benny, shaking his hand back. "And please just call me Benny."

"Hey? How come you shook _his_ hand and not mine?' Roger whined and pouted like a 7-year-old who was refused candy.

Mark stood in front of Roger so that they were at eye level. "Because _he's_ not the one who barfed all over my business shirt," he murmered, while mustering up the angriest glare that he could, hoping it would make Roger cower with fear. But to his surprise, Roger just looked right back at him with that same sparkle in his eyes and a small smile playing across his lips.

"What the fuck are you grinning at, asshole?" Mark demanded the shaggy blond. "You think I'm singing a song here?"

Roger chuckled, his smile growing wider. "Oh no no no, Doc. It's _better_ than a song. You could say that I like the feisty types." He threw in a wink for effect.

Mark did a double take again, trying his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, and looked over at Benny, who was now felling a little uncomfortable at the heated exchange between his friend and the doctor. "Yea thanks, nice to know," he said sarcastically. "There's some forms outside for you to fill. Now if you could please leave so we can use these rooms for some _real_ emergencies?"

Roger kept grinning and he got off the bed. "Yup, will do. Thanks again for all the help, Doc. I owe ya." And with that, he exited the room with Benny, giving Mark a one-finger salute as he did so.

Mark shook his head, then walked up to his office, where he kept some spare clothes in case of need, and proceeded to clean and disinfect himself properly before getting back to work. _Some people are so thick_, he thought inside his head.

* * *

By around 6 in the evening, Mark decided to take a quick 10-minute break outside to grab some fresh air and maybe a coffee as well. He walked into his favourite coffee house, Coffee Beenz, and stood in the line. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee brewing while he waited. He quickly checked his pager before his turn came, when he suddenly heard a voice go, "Welcome to Coffee Beenz sir, what would you……….Whoa! Hey there!" 

Mark stared at the figure behind the counter, his pager nearly falling out of his hand. "Roger?" he blurted. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

* * *

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaand I hope that's enough to establish the characters and their relationships. Bet you didn't see _this_ coming, did you? _–snickers- _

Oh, and I don't really know too much about what doctors do in ER rooms so please forgive me. Besides, this is a fanfic, not a medical journal anyways.


	3. Free Coffee

Ok, now I know a lot of you have said this, and it's true. A doctor wouldn't usually be like that to a patient. But when that particular doctor is a rich, suppressed and rigid doctor like Mark and the patient is a laid-back, fun-loving, Bohemian rock star like Roger, things can happen. And if you stay tuned, those things will most certainly happen……

* * *

Mark blinked several times, as he looked into the face of the man whom he saved just earlier that morning.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked dumbly.

Roger grinned. "I work here."

"But I come here all the time. How come I've never seen you before?" said Mark with suspicion.

"Because I used to work the late night shift, but since I can't do that anymore, they switched me to the evening shift; which is a good thing, because now I'll get to see _you_ more often." He winked expertly, causing the young doctor to blush ever so slightly. "So, what can I-"

"Hey, can you hurry the fuck up? We didn't come here to watch you hustle!" yelled a woman two heads behind Mark, dressed in a sea-green dress and black high heels and looking really angry at the delay.

"Alright fine, I will! Keep your pants on!" Roger yelled right back at her, his brow crinkling. Then he turned back to Mark, his smile returning to his face. "So, what can I get you?"

Mark, unable to stop looking at Roger in a tight, black T-shirt with the words _Coffee Beenz_ etched onto the right breast of the shirt, stuttered, "I, um…..uh…..I'll have a...regular hazelnut latte….with skim milk, please…."

Roger punched a button in the cash register and turned around to make the drink. When he was done, he placed a plastic cover over the hot cardboard cup and handed it to Mark. The young doctor continued to stare at him. "So uh..….how much for that?"

Roger smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's on the house," he whispered.

Mark raised an eyebrow and said, "But then, won't it come out of your-"

"I know," said Roger breathily. "But it's okay. Consider it a treat from me to you." He smiled warmly as he watched Mark take the hot cup from his hand. Their fingers brushed past each other momentarily and Mark could feel the heat running though his fingers and down his arms but he wasn't sure if it was form the hot coffee cup or from, well, something else. He shook his head and smiled curtly at the rugged man.

"Well then, thank you very much," he said abruptly. "Good day!" And with that, he spun on his heel and departed from the queue.

"Have a good one!" shouted Roger across the shop to him, giving him a small wave and smile before turning to the next customer. Mark exited the coffee house, but not before stealing another quick glance at his former patient behind the counter, and darted back to the office, willing the red blush to leave his face.

* * *

"What a cocky little asshole! What the fuck does he think of himself?"

Mark was having dinner with Collins when he came home at 8.00 that night. The two friends sat at the dinner table, eating a spinach and mushroom casserole that Collins had made, while Mark recounted his adventures of the day; from having Roger throw up on him, to meeting him at the coffee shop later. Collins listened with fascination.

"I mean, first throwing up on me and then acting like it was a big joke? Just where does this guy get off?" Mark huffed as he chewed on a mushroom head.

"Wow, he sounds like my kinda guy!" said Collins, giggling.

Mark shook his head. "Umm, I don't think you should try anything, Collins," he warned, tracing patterns on the plate with his fork.

Collins laughed and sipped some water. "No Mark, that's not what I meant. I just wanna meet the guy. Ya know, like over vodka and stuff. He sounds really cool. I mean, he slipped you a free coffee. Who knows, he probably likes dancing on tables and stuff." he said.

"Well, we'll see about that," said Mark. He got up and cleared his plate and fork. Collins finished his casserole, cleaned his plate and then put the remainder of it in the fridge.

"Honestly, I wish you'd just lighten up, boy. Ya know, like take a chill pill," said the professor as he settled down on the couch to read one of his philosophy journals.

Mark smiled slyly at his friend. "Thank you for the tip _Socrates_, but I'm perfectly happy the way I am" he said as he sat down at the table to read some medical reports.

"Look, I'm sure you are Cohen, but you need to learn to like people more. Not every person is a slob or a loser or a dimwit like you keep insisting they are. I mean, I smoke the occasional pot _and_ I have HIV, but you still like me, don't you?"

Mark sighed and faced his friend. "Of course I do. You're an intellectual just like I am. You love reading, and philosophy and analysing the world from different angles. Even thought you're a little unconventional, I don't mind because at least you're brainy and thus, a valuable contribution to society. Unlike some _others_," he huffed.

Collins smiled sagely at the young doctor. "Well, thank you muchly for your kind words. But all I'm saying is, just give people a chance. You never know what they might turn out to be."

"I'll think about it," said Mark, grinning at the philosopher before turning back to the piles of paper lying in front of him.

* * *

_The next day……._

Mark sat at his desk, yawning widely as he spent another late night looking at some X-rays he took of his last three patients that day. He blinked at the clock, which read **11.36 pm**. He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms, and took a sip of his lukewarm tea. Suddenly, he heard the reception bell ring. Remembering that the receptionist had left for the day, he stepped out of his office and went to attend to the customer.

"Roger?" he blinked. "What are you doing at this unearthly time?"

Roger smiled at him. "I would ask _you_ the same thing," he replied cheekily.

"I have work to do," he replied defensively. "And you?"

"I came to pay my hospital bill," he said, taking out a chequebook from his pocket. He scribbled down the desired amount, signed his name with a smiley face in the O and handed the cheque to Mark.

"Thank you," said Mark abruptly. He then wrinkled his nose at Roger's ripped jeans, GUNS N' ROSES T-shirt and leather jacket. "Where did _you_ just come from?" he asked disdainfully.

Roger rested an arm on the reception counter. "From a gig. I play every other night with my band the Well Hungarians. I do lead vocals and lead guitar" he said proudly.

"But I thought you worked in the coffee shop," asked Mark with confusion.

"Yeah, I do the coffee shop in the evening and then I move onto gigging straight after."

"I see," said the Jewish doctor, slowly nodding his head. "Why would somebody keep two jobs at once? I just don't understand."

"Well, maybe because that somebody might have food, heat, rent and bills to pay and one job just doesn't seem to suffice," said the rock-star matter-of-factly. Mark suddenly felt ashamed and embarrassed at his question.

"Oh I see. I'm sorry, I didn't know. I should have asked-" he blubbered, blushing furiously, but was cut off.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Doc," said Roger with a smile.

Just then, the fax machine in Mark's office starting whirring as a fax came through. Out came the first sheet, then the second, but unfortunately, the third sheet didn't make it way out fully and ended up jamming the whole fax machine.

"Oh no!" yelled Mark, rushing into his office. "_Please_ don't conk out on me! I need this machine!" He tried to open the machine to fix it, but instead it stopped whirring and died while the paper was still halfway out. Mark gripped his hair in frustration.

"Is something wrong?" asked Roger as he cautiously entered Mark's office.

"It's my fax machine," whimpered Mark. "I was just waiting for a really important fax from the X-Ray centre but now it's just died on me."

Roger studied it for a minute, then said, "I can fix it."

Mark looked incredulously at him. "You can fix a fax machine? I doubt you can even work one," he scoffed.

The rock star grinned cheekily at him. "Of course I can. You wanna bet?" he asked.

"Ok fine," said Mark, suddenly feeling daring. "If you can't fix it, then……I will make you mop the hospital floors. For a _week_."

Roger chuckled. "Alright. And if _I_ win, you will go out with me," he added, tossing his head.

The Jew stared at him, his jaw hitting the floor. "**What?** Are you serious?" he asked. "No way." He shook his head vigourously to affirm his sentence.

"Why not?" asked Roger. "If you don't agree, I won't fix your precious machine. It's perfectly fair. Whaddaya say?"

Mark stiffened and faced Roger. "It's a deal," he said, sticking out his hand. He and Roger shook hands, almost doubling over when he felt a slight jolt of electricity going up his arm. Roger rolled up his sleeves and got to work and within 15 minutes, the fax machine was up and running and out came the third sheet of paper, in perfect condition. Mark sighed defeatedly.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" he mumbled.

"I used to work for an office equipment supplier," said Roger as he rolled his sleeves back down. He looked at Mark, the cheeky smile gracing his face again. "So, you free Friday night?"

Mark looked back at him, the blush creeping onto his pale cheeks. "Umm, yes….yes, I am," he stammered.

"Great. I'll pick you up at 7," said Roger with a warm smile. Giving a one finger salute, he exited the hospital, leaving a very bewildered Mark wondering just what the hell happened in there. And what he was going to wear.

* * *

AAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAA! Now we're getting' somewhere! _–giggles-_

Oh, and don't worry, the other characters will eventually come along as the story unravels. You just gotta wait.


	4. What To Wear

"What am I doing, Collins? What the _fuck_ am I doing? Why did I say yes to him?" asked Mark frantically.

"Hey hey _hey_, just relax now Mark. It's only a date," said Collins, chuckling.

"It's NOT a date," Mark insisted, wrapping the phone cord around his wrist nervously.

"Then why are you getting' so defensive?" teased the professor on the other end.

"I'm _not_," insisted the young doctor, feeling thankful that Collins couldn't see him blush over the phone. He started pacing across the living room floor nervously. "I just don't want to go out with that slob."

"Then don't go," said the professor sagely. "But if you do - and I'm pretty sure you will - just relax and have a good time. I'll bet you any money he'll take you out on a really interesting date," he added cheekily.

Mark sighed. "Ok fine, whatever. Just because you're a professor doesn't mean you're so smart."

Collins giggled. "Maybe not, but I can pretend to be, right? Anyway, I gotta go now. I have a class very soon. I might be late so don't wait up for me."

'Ok then. Bye, Collins," said Mark, hanging up the phone. He then started pacing the living room back and forth, back and forth over and over again, wondering what to wear. Suddenly the door of his apartment flew open and –

"HEEEYYY POOKIEEEEE!" was what filled the apartment and nearly shook the entire building. Mark shook his head, suddenly coming back down to earth.

"God Maureen, do you have to cause an earthquake every time you see me?" he said. The dark-haired woman giggled, dressed in skintight blue jeans and a pink halter top, as she hugged Mark tightly.

"Well of course! I only do it because I'm so happy to see you," she cooed as Mark hugged her back.

"So, you wanna come to the club with Joanne and me?" she asked, chewing on a fingernail.

"Ummm, no I….can't. I'm, uh…..I'm goin' out," said Mark nervously, sitting down beside her.

Maureen suddenly perked up. "Out? As in, a _date_?" she exclaimed, a huge smile creeping over her face. "Who's the lucky gal? Or guy?" she asked, poking him in the ribs.

"Umm, guy," said Mark, blushing furiously. "I uh, met him at the hospital. His name's Roger." He got up, went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of cold water to cool himself down, hoping to make his blush go away. But Maureen noticed.

"OOOOhhhhhh, Markie's in lluuurrvvee!" teased the Drama Queen, making loud, smacking sounds with her lips. This made Mark blush even more.

"I am **not!**" he snapped, dropping his glass into the sink.

"Yes you are! I can see it," Maureen chided as she studied Mark's face close. "But never mind that. First, we need to find you some clothes." And with that, she dragged Mark into the bedroom and proceeded to dress him up.

* * *

_An hour later……_

"Ohhhh Marky, you look adorable!" Maureen squealed as she stepped back to look at her creation.

Mark looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was dressed in black jeans, a red and blue striped sweatshirt and a brown corduroy jacket. His face was clean shaved and his hair was in spikes. He sighed.

"Umm, Maureen?" he asked tentatively. "Don't you think this is a little too, well, casual?"

"No, of course not," said the Drama Queen as she studied his reflection with him. "Remember, when in doubt, always go for casual but sharp. And you, my dear, look adora-bibble." She giggled at her own joke.

Mark shook his head. "Ok, thank you Maureen, for your help." He sat down on the bed, wringing his hands non-stop and chewing his lip. Maureen sat down beside him.

"Wow Pookie, I don't remember you ever being this nervous when _we_ were dating," she quipped, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I'd really like to meet this guy."

"No you won't, because after this night, I am never seeing him again," said the Jew, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest.

Maureen smiled mysteriously, as if she knew something he didn't. "Oh I doubt that very much. I can guarantee you - in _writing_ - that you'll be scribbling his name all over your diary within a few weeks." She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a manner that would make anyone melt.

Mark laughed cynically. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say," he mumbled as he fidgeted with his Rolex.

"Oh my Gosh, look at the time!" yelled Maureen suddenly, looking at the clock. "I gotta go! Joanne's expecting me at the club in 15 minutes." She picked up her handbag and sprinted towards the door. "Oh, and just relax. Don't be nervous. Be yourself and just talk to him. And if it doesn't work out, you can just give him my number," she added the last line with a naughty wink.

"_Maureen!_ Won't you ever change?" said the young doctor, shaking his head disapprovingly. Maureen just giggled, gave him another quick hug and kiss, yelled "Bye! Have a great time! Good luck!" and in a flash of brown curls, she was gone.

Mark sat down on the couch again, rehearsing exactly what he was going to say and do, when 7 o'clock struck. And with a minute, the doorbell went "_Ding Dong!_"

Mark stared at the door for a few seconds, before slowly getting up from his seat. _What the hell is going on? Why am I so nervous? It's not even a date_, he told himself. He gripped the handle tight, turned the knob and opened the door.

* * *

Ooooooohhhhh, wonder what happens at the date. Sorry for the slow update, I've had a bad cold. 


	5. The First Date

Mark got up from the couch, turned the knob and opened the door. There stood a handsome rock star, in a green 'Well Hungarians' T-shirt, ripped jeans with silver chains hanging off them, and his face freshly shaved. He smiled widely when he saw Mark.

"Hey there, stranger," he greeted warmly.

"Hey Roger," said Mark breathlessly. He stared Roger up and down, taking in his rugged physique and clothing, wondering how the hell he ended up on a date with someone like this. _Oh yeah, because I lost a bet_, he remembered. "So, where are we goin?"

"Oohh, you'll see," said Roger, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You ready to go?" he asked, his legs shaking excitedly.

"Ummmm yeah, I guess." Mark raised an eyebrow, anxious about what lay in store for him that evening.

"Great!! Let's go!!!" squealed Roger, grabbing his arm and leading him out the door. Mark locked the door to his flat and tried his bets to keep up with the rock star, who was now practically dragging him down the stairs. Finally, they were out of the building and onto the street.

"Where did you park?" asked the young doctor, scanning the entire street.

Roger laughed at his remark. "Park? I don't have a car. I mean I do, but my friend Benny borrowed it for _his_ date with his rich girlfriend Muffy." He pulled Mark down a flight of stairs. "So, I guess were taking the subway then."

"Yip-pee. Sounds like fun," mumbled Mark sarcastically, who cringed at the thought of travelling in an underground breeding ground full of germs, bacteria and hidden nasties. _This better be good_, he hoped as he and Roger stood on the platform.

* * *

"_An amusement park??"_ Mark blurted out as he stared in disbelief at the Ferris wheels, roller coasters, clowns and rides that surrounded him.

"Why not? I thought it would be a fun date. You know, break the ice and all that," said Roger, who skipped over to Mark with two entry passes in his hand. "Besides, I just had to take advantage of the two for one deal this week," he said, giggling.

"Well I'm glad you made use of it, because I'm not going on a single ride," said Mark, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, his forehead crinkling with his frown.

Roger gently shook him by the arm, his face forming a pout. "Awwww come on. Not even one?? I promise you'll enjoy it."

But Mark shook his head. "No. I do not do amusement parks. I'm not going."

But an hour later, Mark found himself strapped on the rollercoaster, clinging onto the metal bar for dear life while screaming his lungs out. "HHHEEELLLPPPPP!!! GET ME OFF THIS THIIINGG!!! HHOOLLLYYYYY CCRRAAAAAAAPP!!!"

But Roger, however, was yelling something more along the lines of, "WWHHHOOOOOOHHHOOOOOO!!!! RIDE 'EM, COWBOY!! THAT'S THE WAY TO GO!!! YYYEEEEEEEEHHHHHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" while pumping his fist in the air. Obviously, he was enjoying this much more than what Mark was. Finally, the ride ended and all the passengers were let off one by one.

"Holy fuck, that was so much _fun!!_" gasped the rock star as he jumped out of the little car and onto solid ground, giggling and shaking like an excited 8-year-old.

"Fun??? You call that fun?? I can feel my breakfast and lunch crawling up my throat!!" huffed Mark, who tried to find a bench to sit on. Roger ran behind him to keep up.

"Come on, now. When was the last time you ever gave yourself an adrenaline rush?" said Roger breathlessly.

"A what??' asked the young Jew incredulously, plopping himself on a wooden bench to catch his breath.

"It's that feeling that you get when you do something really really scary, or energetic, or crazy," Roger explained as he sat himself down next to Mark. "That's the feeling that I get whenever I perform onstage with my band. I tell ya, it's like nothing else." He bent down to quickly tie his shoelace. "You should try it sometime. It'll be real good for you."

"Yeah, maybe," mumbled Mark, nodding his head.

"So, whaddaya wanna ride next??" asked Roger, eagerly sitting up.

Mark blinked at him. "You mean, after the giant Ferris wheel, the Dragon Boat, the bumper cars, the Spooky Tunnel and the Jungle Maze, you _still_ have energy left for more??"

"Uhh huh," said Roger, grinning and nodding excitedly. "But maybe we can take a break before that. You hungry?"

"Well yeah, but there's **no way** I'm eating corn dogs or deep-fried chicken wings or any of that vile crap," said Mark, shuddering at the sight of all the fast food stalls around him.

"That's okay. I'm sure there's something healthier," said Roger. The two of them walked down the food court until they found a salad bar that sold healthy food. Mark got a turkey and salad sandwich and a fresh-squeezed pineapple juice while Roger got a cheeseburger and fries and a Coke, and the two sat at a table and ate together.

"So, what's with all the crankiness, Doc?" asked Roger, chewing a French fry.

"What?" asked Mark, his eyebrows rising out of his head.

"I mean, like, what's with all your uptightness? Like getting angry over the smallest things and nitpicking and stuff. I mean, ever try just loosening up and going with the flow?" Roger looked expectantly at the young Jew.

Mark sighed as he bit into his sandwich. "I dunno. I mean, I'm Jewish, so I've got people from all angles looking at me and making sure I'm clean and good at all times. And then there's the job, which requires me to be real quick and sharp and on my toes constantly. Not to mention, my studies for a PhD degree too." He took a sip of his juice and went back to his sandwich. "I guess I just don't how to loosen up."

"Well, then it's a good thing I brought you here. _I'm_ gonna help you loosen up," declared Roger, draining the last sips of his Coke. He finished his fries and the last bite of his cheeseburger and stood up. "So, do you wanna go on another ride or just play a game?"

"Oh, a game would be nice," said Mark, who had had enough of rides. He finished his sandwich and juice, threw the rubbish away, and walked into the games arena. The first thing that attracted Roger was a basketball game, where one had to throw as many basketballs as they could into a flaming volcano, which was meant to be the basket.

"OOhhh cool!! Watch me, Mark! I am gonna kick ass!!" said Roger excitedly. He missed the first three balls, which cause Mark to giggle slightly. But with determination, he managed to slam dunk nine balls into the volcano/basket. This won a round of applause from the crowd, and a pick of any toy from the wall. Roger walked up Mark and asked him:

"Ok. Which one do you like?"

Mark looked confusedly at him. "Which one do _I_ like? You're the one who won it!!"

Roger shrugged. "Well yeah I know, but I can't choose because I like them all. So _you_ choose."

Mark scanned the entire wall until his eyes came to rest on a fluffy, grey-and-white stuffed Siberian Husky, with shiny glassy eyes and a pink tongue hanging out of it's mouth. "That one," he said, pointing to said toy.

Roger nodded, and soon he was holding this particular stuffed dog in his hands. He handed it to Mark dramatically. "For you," he said, with a smile.

Mark blinked at the puppy, a slight blush creeping over his face, then at Roger. "Ohh, thank you. You… you didn't have to…but, thank you so much," he whispered, taking the stuffed puppy from him and cradling it in his arms while stroking it's soft white fur. "I'm gonna name him Randolph."

Roger giggled. "Sounds great. Hey Randolph," he said, pretending to shake the puppy's paw. The two of them giggled, then decided it was late and they had to go home.

* * *

A half an hour later, they were back on the subway, with the stuffed Husky in tow and ice cream cones which they were just finishing off. Roger walked Mark back up the stairs and to his house.

"Hey, thanks a lot for that, Roger. It was fun," said Mark, clutching the puppy close to him and he opened the door to his house. "I should really do stuff like that more often."

"Yeah, you should," said Roger, smiling and he held the door open for Mark. Once he was inside, the two stared awkwardly at each other.

"Well then," said Mark, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "Umm, good night. Thanks again."

"No problem," purred Roger, smiling widely at him. "Good night, Doc." He gave Mark a one-finger salute as he made his way down the stairs. Mark smiled back and waved at him before closing the door behind him.

Collins lay on the couch, half-asleep, when Mark walked in. "What the fuck did you do, Mark? Babysit your nephew?" he quipped, gesturing toward the stuffed puppy.

"Shut up, Collins," said Mark, flinging a cushion at him playfully. "I went on a date."

"Oh really? Tell me about it," said the professor, his ears perking up.

"Tomorrow. Right now, I need to sleep," said Mark, who retired to his bedroom, placed Randolph near the foot of his bed, undressed, brushed his teeth, and fell into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

* * *

So tell me...was it a nice date? Use the button on the bottom to do so...


	6. SoCalled Boyfriend

"An _amusement park?!?_" said Collins through a fit of giggles after Mark recalled the events from the previous night as he and Mark shared a brunch of omelettes with smoked salmon and watercress salad on the side.

Mark rolled his eyes. "For the millionth time Collins, I didn't pick the place, he did. It was just a stupid bet. I am _never_ seeing him again after this," he said defensively.

Collins grinned and took a sip of his Earl Gray tea. "No man, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that, I never really pictured you as the amusement park type person. You're more of a ballet, opera and theatre person."

"Yes, that I am," said Mark, spearing a piece of salmon and pushing it around his plate. "Which reminds me; I bought tickets for _La Boheme_ for Saturday night. I'm gonna take Alistair with me," he said brightly.

"**What?!?**" said Collins incredulously, his fork suddenly dropping onto the plate. "Alistair Crowley? You mean to tell me you're _still_ dating that loser? If you can even call it dating, that is."

"Well, I'll just have you know that yes, I am" said Mark firmly as he sipped his tea. "Not that that's any of your concern."

The professor sighed. "Why do you do this to yourself, Mark? Huh? Why the hell are you with someone who doesn't even consider you as a boyfriend?"

"He _is_ my boyfriend, Collins," said the young doctor. "Well…...no, not yet, but he will be! We're still in the beginning stages of our relationship, you know. And why shouldn't I be with him? He's rich, smart, successful, ambitious and has a great future ahead of him."

Collins shook his head exasperatedly. "Stop fooling yourself, Marky-boy. You've been in the 'beginning stages' for more than a year now," he stated, making quotation marks with his fingers. "He didn't even show up for your first-year anniversary dinner, did he?"

Mark sucked his breath in sharply. "Well no, but he _did_ give me this beautiful watch," he said, proudly holding up his wrist to show Collins a shiny, silver Rolex with tiny, microscopic diamonds in the watch's hands.

The professor nodded and smiled sagely at him. "It's beautiful, Mark. But all he ever gives you are expensive gifts."

The Jew stared at him blankly. "And your point is……..?"

"Forget it, Mark. You won't understand. All that matters to you is money, wealth, success and power," said Collins, getting up from his seat. "Just because he's a really good stock broker doesn't mean he's a really good boyfriend." He took his plate and cutlery to the sink, washed all of them and put them in the drain. "Well, I gotta go teach my afternoon class. I'll see ya later, boy," he said, grabbing his bag from the floor.

"Bye Collins," said Mark, getting up from his seat and collecting his plate. The professor waved and left the apartment, banging the door behind him. Mark washed his stuff and then went into his study. Since it was his day off, he decided to use to look at some medical reports and make a few phone calls.

While he sat at his desk looking at his documents, he got to thinking; _what the hell is Collins talking about? What's wrong with having money and being successful? I much prefer being with Alistair, who's rich and powerful and has some direction in his life rather than someone like Roger, who has no money, no steady job and no ambition in life. People like him get absolutely nowhere._ Satisfied with his little pep-talk, he picked up the phone and rang Alistair's number. Not surprisingly, it was busy.

"Hey Alistair? It's me, Mark. Um….how you goin? Busy?...Uh, me too. Hey uh, listen……I bought some……some tickets to _La Boheme_ for this Saturday night, and I was just, you know…….just hoping that maybe you might be able to come with me?" He paused, not quite knowing what to say and having a great hatred for leaving messages on answering machines. "Well anyway, that, uh…….that's all I wanted. You take care and I'll, uh……I'll talk to you soon, babe. Ok? Bye, Alistair." After finishing his message, he hung up the phone and went back to his work while eagerly waiting for his boyfriend to return his call.

* * *

Mark looked at the clock, which read 7 pm. Stretching his arms, he decided to go to the hospital and see if they had received the test results of some of his patients from the labs yet. While he waited near the receptionist's desk, his cell phone suddenly he rang. _About damn time_, he thought.

"Hello, this is Dr. Cohen," said Mark into the phone.

"Hey Mark?" said the deep, gruff voice on the other end of the line which made Mark suddenly perk up with delight. "How are you? I just got your message."

"Hey, Alistair. Sorry I bothered you" said Mark shyly, tilting his head onto one side. "Yeah, I just wanted to know if you could come with - ,"

Alistair suddenly cut him off. "Hey it's okay, I was on an important call. Can you believe the _Nikkei 225 _dropped by 50 cents?? I mean, those damn Japanese make the most popular electronics in the world and then their shares go down?? **Goddamnit!!** I invested too much money in those damn fools, how dare they ruin me like this?? I will not stand for this crazy scheme of……….."

Mark just stood there at the desk, listening to his boyfriend ramble on and on and on about the amount of money he invested in the Japanese stock exchange while he waited for the test results that he needed. He sighed. "Yes yes, babe. I understand. But you still haven't told me yet. Can you come on Saturday night?"

"What?? Oh yeah yeah, sure. I'll be there. Sorry," said Alstair, suddenly coming back down the Mark. "I'll meet you in the foyer at around 6.30?"

Mark beamed. "Sure, that'll be great!!" he said happily.

"Alright, that's settled then," said Alistair on the other line. "Well, I gotta go give a presentation to my boss. I'll talk to you later. Bye!!!"

"Ok, bye baby," said Mark cheerily before Alistair hung up the phone. He couldn't wipe the wide smile off his face as he drive back home with the test results that he came for. He got home, tossed his keys on the coffee table and walked into his bedroom to hang up his jacket. Just then, the phone rang. Mark picked it up and answered.

"Hey Mark? Collins here," said the voice on the other line.

"Hey Collins. What's up?" said Mark.

"I'm coming home early today. I got us some pizza."

"Oh great! It better not be Domino's though," said the young doctor warningly.

Collins laughed on the other line. "No no no, don't worry, it's from your favourite gourmet Italian place. Roast eggplant with char grilled mushrooms, artichokes, olives, capsicum and mozzarella cheese. Healthy _and_ kosher," he said.

Mark giggled. "Okay, bring it over then," and with that he hung up. He turned to leave the bedroom when his eyes fell on Randolph, the stuffed puppy that Roger gave him at the fair.

"What are you staring at?" he said, frowning at the animal. "I'm not interested in you anymore. I have someone better." And with that, he marched out into the living room to wait for Collins. _I am happy_, he said to himself. _And Collins had better get **that** into his head._

* * *

Ooooohhhhh, what have we here?? Could this possibly be a secret love triangle?? Stay tuned to find out!!! 


	7. The Second Date

_**Friday, 6.00 pm.**_

Mark stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his crisp, black Armani suit and his dark blue tie. He studied his reflection carefully. His hair was carefully brushed and his face was clean shaven. He sprayed some _Yves Saint Laurent_ onto his wrists and ensured that his gold cufflinks were clipped on properly. Collins often teased him that he spent more time preening himself than most women, but then he needed to look his best. This was an opera he was going to.

"Hey, Cinderella. You done in there??" yelled Collins from the living room.

Mark grinned. "Yes Collins, I am," he yelled back.

"Better hurry up or you'll miss the ball," he yelled again. Mark chucked to himself and walked into the living room, where Collins sat on the couch watching a Reagan documentary on the TV. "So, is Alistair actually gonna show up this time?"

"Yes he will. He promised me," Mark insisted.

Collins shrugged. "Well, have fun. Don't stay out too late."

"Yes, _mother_," said the young doctor with a grin. He put the tickets in his pocket, took his keys and walked out of the loft and down the stairs. He hailed a cab, which took him to the opera house. After paying the driver, he got out of the cab, walked into the foyer and sat himself down on one of the plush, velvety purple couches. He glanced at his watch. _Another ten minutes until Alistair gets here_, he thought. So he just sat and read some of the theatre's brochures while he waited.

* * *

About 30 minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Alistair. Mark glanced at his watch, which read 6.50, and tapped his foot impatiently. He tried calling his boyfriend's number for the third time and still received his answering service. Frustrated, he got up and started pacing the foyer back and forth. Finally, his phone rang.

"Hello, this is Dr. Cohen," he said.

"Hey Mark? It's Alistair," said the voice on the other line.

Mark's voice tightened with excitement. "Hey baby. I though you'd forgotten. You _are_ coming, right? Are you running late?"

Alistair hesitated before he spoke. "Umm, look Mark. I, uh………. I can't make it today. One of the guys at work got sick and now I have to do all his work and they need it from my by Monday. I'm sorry, babe."

Mark bit his lip. "But I bought tickets for us," he mumbled.

Alistair sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mark. I guess I should've called sooner. Take Collins with you. I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

"Yeah, I suppose I could," said the young doctor dejectedly.

"Sorry about this, Mark. I gotta go now. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Ok, babe. Love you. Bye." And with that, Mark hung up the phone and sighed heavily as he gazed at all the other people in the foyer dressed in lovely evening clothes, talking and laughing with their dates for the night. Alistair did this all the time. He'd say that he'd be there, but then at the last minute he'd call and cancel. But Mark trusted him tonight. His lip trembled as he tried to fight back tears. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the theatre and onto the main street. He walked and walked, his head hanging low, until he felt someone bump into him and knock him to the ground.

"OOOOFF!!" said Mark and he fell onto the sidewalk. "Watch where you're going!!" he huffed.

"Hey sorry man, I didn't mean to – Hey Doc!!"

Mark looked up at the man who stood in front of him. "Roger!! What are you doing here?"

Roger grinned. "Oh, I just finished my bartending shift and was on my way home." He grabbed Mark's arm and help him up to his feet. "Say, got a big date tonight?" he asked, gesturing to the suit.

Mark blushed as he straightened his jacket and tie. "Thank you. I had a date tonight, but not anymore. My boyfriend cancelled because he had lots of work to do." He chewed his lip sadly as he pulled the tickets out of his pocket to show Roger.

Roger huffed. "Man, what a bummer. Sorry 'bout that." He studied the tickets closely. "_La Boheme_, eh? I've heard about this show. So, you on your way home now?" he asked Mark.

Mark blinked nervously. "Uh well, I dunno. I just don't wanna waste those tickets because I bought them for us." He looked at Roger. "You wouldn't wanna come with me, would you? I never thought of you as an opera person," he asked hesitantly.

"Well no, I'm not, but what the hell? I just don't wanna see you spend the evening alone. Sure, I'll come with you. Do I look okay for an opera though? I just changed outta my bar clothes," he said.

Mark looked up and down at his green shirt, black corduroy pants and black jacket. "Yeah, I think you look fine," he remarked. "Okay, let's go. The show starts in 20 minutes."

"Sure thing, Doc," said Roger. The two of them walked quickly back to the theatre, where the people were getting ready to be ushered to their seats. Mark and Roger checked in their tickets and proceeded down the aisles where a crowd of people tried to find their seats on the same row. While they waited, Roger turned to Mark and whispered:

"Oh by the way, you look really awesome tonight."

Mark blushed furiously, his jaw quivering as he struggled to find words. "Oh, uh…….thank you, Roger. You……you look really great too." And he really did. Roger smiled warmly at him as the two of them finally found their seats. The rock star and the doctor sat down, and the lights slowly dimmed to indicate the beginning of the show. Mark quickly stole a glance at Roger, who was watching the orchestra tuning up, his face and neck suddenly getting warm. Mark suddenly thought to himself: _why do I suddenly get the feeling that this might actually be a good evening?_

* * *

Oh my. Funny how fate works, isn't it?? Read and review please!!! 


	8. Drinks And Brunch

"Whoa! That was a great show!!"

Mark blinked. "You liked it?"

"Sure did," said Roger as the two of them exited the hall where _La Boheme_ was performed. Mark raised an eyebrow at him. Roger sighed.

"Alright, so the music kinda put me to sleep a little. But the plot was really something. I love how even though Rodolfo and Mimi kept falling apart because of her illness, they still came back together and rebuilt their love. Sad she had to die though. And I loved how cunning Musetta was when she was trying to win back Marcello. She's a feisty little one," he said with a giggle.

"Yeah. She reminds me a lot of my ex-girlfriend Maureen," said Mark with a slight shudder.

"Ex-girlfriend?" Now it was Roger's eyebrow that lifted.

Mark shrugged. "Yeah. We dated for a couple of years until she dumped me for a lawyer named Joanne because she realised that she swung the other way."

Roger giggled ever so slightly, but restrained himself. "Whoa, tough break, man. Sorry to hear that," he said.

"Oh don't worry. We're still good friends though," added Mark brightly. "Say, would you like to have a drink now?"

"Sure!!" piped Roger, who never missed an opportunity that involved alcohol.

So the unlikely pair sat at the opera house's bar, where Mark ordered a dry martini while Roger ordered a cold beer.

"But you know what I liked best about the whole show?" asked the rock star suddenly.

"What?" said Mark, picking up the toothpick with the olive on it.

Roger leaned forward and gazed directly at Mark. "I loved how strong the friendship is between Rodolfo and Marcello and how they always stick together throughout the hard times. Especially when Mimi's dying. Rodolfo may be alone, but at least he and Marcello still have each other. I think their relationship is the most constant one on the whole play…..don't you?" he whispered.

Mark gasped softly, his cheeks blushing a deep pink as he felt Roger's breath so close to his face. Never had he allowed a total stranger to come this close to him. He had half a mind to tell Roger to back off, but since that would be too rude he just mumbled, "Oh yes, yes. Of course," and then stuffed the olive quickly into his mouth, savouring the sour, pungent taste on his tongue.

Roger's face slowly spread into a huge grin and he said, "There. Not only did I watch an opera with you, I even learnt the storyline. I am now, officially, a cultured indi-vi-du-aal." He winked naughtily at Mark, and earned a chuckle from the young Jew.

They spent the next hour just drinking and chatting about whatever they could, until Mark suddenly looked at his watch and said, "Hey Roger, I'm sorry to do this, but I really have to go home. I have a very early start tomorrow at the hospital."

"So soon? What about dinner?"

"I would've loved dinner, but I just lost track of the time and now it's really late. I'll just have to eat something at home and then hit the hay straight away." He got up from his chair and straightened his jacket.

"Hey, thanks for coming with me on such short notice, Roger," he said graciously.

"Hey, no problem Doc," said Roger, draining the last drops of his beer.

"No really, I mean it. Thank you," said Mark once again, as he pulled out his wallet and slapped a few bills on the bar table. "This one's on me."

Roger walked beside him as the two of them exited the opera house. "Then it's only fair that I drop you home."

"Oh no, Roger. You don't have to do that. Really. I'll be fine," urged Mark, who was eager to get away from him.

"Okay, if you say so," relented Roger. He stuck his hand out to Mark and said, "Have a good night, Doc."

"You too, Roger. Thanks for your company," replied Mark, shaking his hand warmly.

"Anytime, Doc."

The two of them stood there on the sidewalk, their hands slowly moving together, as they gazes lingered. Finally, Mark broke the gaze. "Alright, I really have to go now. Take care, Roger!!"

"You too, Doc!! Seeya!!" The two of them waved goodbye, then slowly turned around walked their own separate ways home. Mark hailed a cab, opened the door, and glanced quickly at Roger's back before sliding into the car. _Ok, that wasn't so bad,_ he thought to himself as the cab took him home, his heart pounding softly.

* * *

_The next morning……_

"Yes, Mrs. Thompson. Get the tests done at your nearest X-ray centre, and bring the results back to me, and we'll go from there, okay? Have a good day, Mrs. Thompson. Goodbye!" said Mark into the phone. He hung up the receiver, then took in a few deep breaths while he rubbed his eyes and massaged him temples. He had an early start that morning at 5.30, to check up on his latest patient; a young girl who had a few deficient nerves in her brain and so was unable to move normally. She'd been complaining – more like crying - over the immense amount of pain she was feeling due to the new medication that was being administered to her, so that that kept our dear Dr. Cohen busy for a good 4 ½ hours that morning. Now finally, he was able to just sit in his own office and do some paperwork before his next surgery at 11.30. He just sat at his desk, his head bowed, while he massaged his temples, when he heard a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" he mumbled, not bothering to look up.

"What? Oh come now, Mark. Won't you even lift your head to look at me?" said a deep voice from the door. Mark finally lifted his head and tried to focus his eyes on the figure n his doorway: a young 27-year-old man, dressed sharply in a black Armani suit, white shirt with a striped green and black tie, his hair perfectly slicked onto his head and his face perfectly shaved, and his shoes so shiny, it could have served a mirror.

Mark smiled sleepily. "Sorry Alistair, I'm just really sleepy. Come on in. Have a seat," he mumbled, gesturing to the empty seat in front on him, and then yawned.

Alistair grinned and cantered into the room, but instead of sitting at the seat, he leaned over the side of the desk and whispered, "Hey, I'm really _really_ sorry I couldn't make it last night, babe. Jerry got food poisoning that afternoon and I was dumped with all his work. I got you somethin' though." He slipped a long, velvety box towards Mark.

Mark picked up the box and opened it slowly while Alistair waited, an anticipated smile on his face. Inside the box was a gold chain with a tiny Star of David hanging, with miniature diamonds adorning the lines of the star. The diamonds caught the light in the office and threw hundreds of light speckled light reflections across Mark's face. Mark smiled sleepily at the little jewel.

"Thank you, Alistair. It's really beautiful," he gushed, turning the star around and admiring the tiny but sparkly diamonds. He slipped it over his neck and admired it some more.

"Glad you like it," said Alistair confidently, before leaning forward and planting a kiss squarely on Mark's lips. Mark kissed him back, then pulled back to smile at him. "Did Collins enjoy the opera?" he asked.

Mark's face suddenly went pale as he tried to fumble for an answer. "Oh um…uh….yes!! Yes, he did. Although he….umm….he's seen it before, but ya know……it's his favourite opera so yeah, he didn't mind seeing it again," he mumbled, making a mental note to ask Collins to say the same thing should Alistair ever bring it up with him. He loosened his collar briefly.

Alistair hugged him close and kissed his temple. "So, how about some brunch?"

"Oh, I know know, Alistair. I have a surgery later."

"Oh, come on Mark! That's not for two and a half hours! It'll only be a quick one, I promise. Please??" Mark opened his mouth to answer, but Alistair was already pulling him to his feet. Mark sighed. Suddenly the phone rang.

"Alright, I'll come. Just let me take this call," he said, releasing himself from his boyfriend's grip. He picked up the receiver and answered, "Hello?" But the voice on the other end suddenly made his throat tighten.

"Hey, mornin' Doc!!"

Mark gulped, then glanced over at Alistair, who was waiting in the door, his foot tapping and his forehead crinkling in impatience. _Oh my God, it's Roger! And Alistair's right here! What am I gonna say?_

* * *

Ok, I know, that was a terrible ending. I'm really sorry. I promise I'll make it more interesting later on. Read and review please?? Thank you!! 


	9. Why Couldn't You Tell Me Sooner?

Hi everybody! Happy new year!! _–throws monkeys and eggs as confetti- _Sorry about the delay, I've been busy with what, I just don't know. But anyway, I'm here. And I have **_biiiiiiiig_** plans for this story. So stay put and don't go anywhere!! _–puts XXX superglue on your seats-_

* * *

"Hello? Doc?" crackled Roger's voice on the other end.

Alistair sighed impatiently. "C'mon Mark! Hurry up with that damn call already!!" he whined, his forehead wrinkling.

Mark chewed his lip and he gripped the phone tightly. He put on a loud fake voice and said, "Oh, good morning Mr. Hagley! How are you feeling since your new treatment?"

"Ohh, uh….great, Dr," replied the rock star awkwardly.

"Excellent!" continued Mark. "But I'm afraid I'm a little busy right now. I have a meeting with the other doctors. Would it be alright if we continued this conversation later?"

"OOhhhhh. Can't talk now, huh?" said Roger with a chuckle. "Ok, sorry about that, Doc. I'll catch up with you later then, alright?"

"Yes Mr. Hagley, of course. I'll call you back once I'm finished. Thank you, Mr. Hagley. Good bye!" And with that, he hung up the phone and turned to Alistair. "Okay, I'm done. Shall we go?"

"Yes, let's go," said Alistair, his face relaxing into a grin as he looped his arm through Mark's and dragged him out of his office. _Thank God_, said Mark internally as he let out a huge sigh of relief. At least he didn't get caught. Not that he was doing anything wrong, of course.

* * *

After about ten minutes, the two men were seated at an outdoor table at Mindy's, a fancy, corporate restaurant, their table containing eggs Benedict, French toast, Earl Grey tea and _foie gras_, which Alistair was greatly enjoying – much to Mark's disgust.

"How can you even eat that?" asked the young doctor incredulously. "And so early in the morning."

Alistair grinned. "Why not? It's sophisticated food. _Royal_ food. Plus, I happen to like it," he quipped as he ate another forkful. "Here, why don't you try some?" he asked as he dug his fork into his plate to obtain more.

"Oh no no no, I couldn't possibly. But thank you," said Mark as his boyfriend filled his fork with the weird, greyish-yellow paste and brought it closer to his face.

"Oh please, Mark. For me. Just a little bit."

Mark stared at Alistair's pleading face for a few minutes before finally giving in. "Oh well…..alright," he said as he let Alistair feed him the _foie gras_. As soon as the paste hit his tongue, he tried his best to stop gagging as he forced it to go down. Alistair grinned and finished his own share from his plate.

"So anyway, I brought you out to brunch today because I wanted to tell you something," said Alistair as he cut into his French toast.

Marl finished his eggs Benedict and started sipping on his tea. "What is it?" he asked quietly, fearing the worst.

The cocky stock broker stared right at him and began slowly. "There have been a few problems with the Nikkei stock index. It's hasn't been performing as well as it should be on Wall Street and it's my job to fix it. So, in order to do that, I'll need to go to Tokyo and have a chat with the stock marketers over there."

Mark suddenly put his cup down and stared right back at him. "When do you have to leave?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning."

"What?? And you're telling me this _now?!?_"

This sudden outburst from Mark caused a few people in the restaurant to turn their heads and look at them. Mark blushed slightly, apologized to them, and turned back to his boyfriend, asking him "Why couldn't you tell me about this sooner?" in a whisper this time.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I _was_ gonna tell you, until Jerry got sick and dumped all his work on me, which is why I wanted take you out to brunch today. So I could tell you properly before leaving," said Alistair, who finished his toast and started sipping his tea.

Mark sighed and gripped his boyfriend's hand. "How long will you be gone?" he asked his boyfriend.

"Three and a half weeks," was Alistair's reply.

"I'll miss you a lot."

"I'll miss you too, babe. But don't worry. I'll bring you lots of cool stuff when I return."

Mark smiled. "That's nice, baby," he mumbled as he squeezed Alistair's hand. He then looked at his watch and said, "Oh my gosh, look at the time! I have to go, Alistair. I have a surgery to prepare for."

"Okay fine, I'll let you go," said Alistair as he wiped his chin with his napkin. He then paid the bill, and walked Mark back to the hospital. He wrapped his arms around Mark's waist and pulled him close.

"I'll call you in the morning before I leave, ok?" he whispered into Mark's ear.

"Okay," said Mark, smiling. He kissed Alistair deeply. "I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too," whispered Alistair as he kissed him back. "I gotta go. Talk to you soon." He pulled away from Mark and started walking towards the door.

"Bye!" said Mark as he waved to his boyfriend, and then went up to his office to prepare for his surgery.

* * *

_Six hours later…….._

"C'mon Mark, you can do this!" Collins loud voice resonated off the bathroom walls. "Trust me, you'll feel much better afterwards."

"Yeah, well I still don't enjoy what I'm doing!!" Mark whimpered as he lay crouched on his knees and continually heaved vomit down the toilet, with Collins gently rubbing his back. After vomiting the last mouthful, he collapsed onto Collins' lap, breathing heavily.

"Boy, was that nasty!!" exclaimed Collins as he fanned the air in from of his face to get rid of the smell.

"I am sooooooo never eating _foie gras_ again," whispered Mark between breaths.

"I second that," said the professor.

After getting himself all cleaned up, Mark sat on the couch, his knees all buckled up to his chest, while Collins' sat at the table reading up for his next class.

"Oh well, look on the bright side. You won't have to eat it for three and a half weeks now!!" joked Collins.

"Shut up!!" Mark yelled at him and threw a pillow at him, causing Collins to giggle out loud. He was just about to throw something back when they heard the doorbell ring.

"Now who could that be?" said Mark.

* * *

So, who's at the door? Who _should_ be at the door?? I won't tell you unless………….you give me 1000 reviews!! And 1000, no **2000** choc chip cookies!!! 


	10. Mmmmm, Cookies!

Collins got from the table to answer the door. He opened the door slowly and there stood a young, handsome guy in a faded, grey flannel shirt and ripped blue jeans. Collins raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, hello," he greeted the visitor. "Are you…….Roger, by any chance?"

The visitor smiled shyly and nodded his head. "Yup, that me. Roger Davis." He stuck his arm out towards Collins.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Tom Collins. But you can just call me Collins, like everyone else," he said, shaking Roger's hand and smiling right back. "So you're the gallant knight who saved Mark's broken date _and_ his broken fax machine?"

Roger blushed slightly. "Wow. Nice to know I'm being talked about," he said as he tried to balance a foil-wrapped dish in his other hands.

"So, um……….is Mark…here?" he asked nervously.

Collins tilted his head back and glanced over at Mark sitting on the couch, who looked at him, his forehead crinkling. He mouthed _"who is it?"_ to Collins. He grinned and looked back at Roger.

"Of course he is! Please, come in!" he said warmly as he stepped out of the way so that Roger could enter. Mark's eyebrows shot ten feet up into the air when he saw Roger walk into his house. He glared at Collins, who only flashed him a cheeky grin and a wink back.

Roger stood near the couch and smiled awkwardly at Mark. "Hey Doc," he said with a small wave. "How you doin'?"

"Oh I'm very well, thank you," replied Mark abruptly. He looked over Roger's shoulder to see Collins gesture towards Roger, and then towards the single armchair. He sighed and said, "Would you like to have a seat?"

"Sure. Thanks," said the rock star as he slowly sat in the arm chair. "I tried to call you back at the hospital today but I couldn't get you. The nurses told me that you were feeling sick and had to go home early so I…….um, I decided to……bring you some of these." He put his plate on the coffee table, removed the foil wrap and there lay a fresh, warm batch of walnut cookies.

Mark's and Collins' eyes suddenly opened wider when they saw the treats. "MMmmmmm. Did you make these yourself?" asked Mark as he inhaled the aroma.

"Well, I _did_ get some help from my ex-girlfriend Mimi, but the recipe's all mine, so yeah," he mumbled as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Here, why don't you have some? You too, Collins," he asked them both.

Collins' smiled and nodded. "Sure, we'd love to! In fact, why don't I make us some coffee to go with it? Roger, would you like a coffee?"

Roger said yes, and within minutes, Collins' brought three steaming mugs of coffee to the table and they all dug into the cookies. Mark bit into a cookie and immediately enjoyed the taste.

"Oh wow, these are yummy, Roger. Thank you for bringing them," he gushed as he savoured the soft, crumbly texture and the warm walnuts.

"Yeah, these are really delicious," Collins agreed as he polished off his cookie. Roger blushed and smiled at them.

"Thanks, guys. Glad you liked them," he mumbled as he sipped his coffee. "So, why did you leave work early, Doc? Were you sick?"

"Yeah. I was forced by my boyfriend Alistair to taste his _foie gras_ for brunch and now I'm really paying for it," he said, chuckling with embarrassment.

Roger wrinkled his nose. "What? You mean, you ate squished-up bird livers? No wonder you don't feel good! I mean, what kind of an idiot eats stuff like that anyway?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that it's very stylish, sophisticated, upper-class gourmet food. Which is exactly why you wouldn't like it," the doctor retorted.

"Well yes, I understand that Doc, but just because it's all upper-class fancy-schmancy doesn't mean you have to like it," he said matter-of-factly as he finished his cookie. "You don't have to be just like him, Mark. You're better than that. Just be yourself."

Mark blushed furiously, not knowing exactly what to say. Collins, on the other hand, was watching this conversation with a keen eye.

"Thank you, Roger. I'll remember that."

* * *

The three of them sat together and chatted for about half an hour, until Roger suddenly looked at his watch and said, "Oh hey guys, sorry to do this, but I have an appointment in ten minutes and I really gotta fly. Thanks a lot for the coffee though." He got up and straightened his clothes. 

"Hey no problem, man. You're welcome anytime," said Collins as he patted Roger on the back. Mark glared at Collins and shook his head firmly. Collins merely stuck his tongue out at Mark. He led Roger towards the door.

"Oh and Roger, thank you for the cookies. They were really nice," said Mark as he followed them to the door.

"You're welcome, Doc. I'll be sure to bring you some more when I come next," said Roger as he opened the door. He turned around to face them once more and said, "Oh hey, a couple of friends and me are goin' out to dinner this Saturday night after a gig so, I was just wondering if……you know……you guys would like to come?"

Collins slung an arm around Mark's shoulders and replied, "Of course, we'd love to! Wouldn't we, Mark?"

"I don't know. I might have a surgery on Saturday night," he mumbled abruptly.

"Well, then he'll just check and let you know!" said Collins warmly. Roger smiled at them.

"Well, thanks again guys. Nice meeting you, Collins. And take care, Doc. See you soon!" And with a smile and a wave, he disappeared down the corridor. Mark shut the door and glared at Collins.

"Boy, he seems really nice," said the professor.

Mark's face crinkled with disbelief. "Nice? What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? First he just barges in uninvited, that too in torn, dirty clothes, waltzes in and sits down like it's his house, and then he invites us to some crummy joint that he and his friends like to hang out in! I mean, talk about rude!!"

Collins stared at Mark, his face spreading into a huge grin, as he began to laugh. First softly, then harder and harder. Mark just couldn't believe his eyes.

"Collins!! What are you laughing at? What the hell is so funny?"

The professor stopped laughing long enough to speak. "You like him, don't you?" he asked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

Mark gritted his teeth and replied, "No, I do not and I never will!! How dare you say something like that?"

Collins started skipping and dancing to the kitchen like a 5-year-old kid who knew a secret. "You like him, you like him, Marky likes Roger!!" he chanted in a sing-song voice.

Mark poked his finger into Collins' arm and growled, "I. Do. Not!!!" he glared at his friend again. "Now shut up!"

"Not until you admit that you like him!"

"Why should I admit something that's not true?"

"Of course it's true, Mark!! It's written all over your face!!"

"No, it's not!!"

"Yes, it is!!"

"**No, it's not!!"**

"Ohhhhh, you betcha it is!!!"

Mark picked up all the cushions from the couch and threw them at Collins, who giggled as he ducked each one. "Throwing's never been your strong point, boy," he remarked. Mark huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Anyway, I know I'm definitely going with him on Saturday. If you wanna come with, you can. If not, then that's fine. I'm sure he won't miss you at all." And with a final wink, he ducked into his room to finish correcting his papers.

Mark plopped himself on the couch and was lost deep in thought. _I do not like him and I am not going to that dinner_, he said to himself. Little did he know what was waiting in store for him.

* * *

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand this is where the action begins!!! No, not this chapter. But soon. Just wait for it. Just waaaaaaiiitt. Just………… _-cackles evilly-_


	11. The Life Cafe

Saturday evening finally rolled by, and our doctor tried his best excuse to get out of attending his invitation.

"Hey Collins, look. I can't come out with you tonight. I have some brain scans that I really need to look at today."

Collins sighed on the other line. "Mark, you've been really looking at those brain scans for the last three weeks. I've seen them too, so I know. C'mon, don't make excuses. If you don't wanna come, then just say so."

"Ok fine, I don't wanna come," said Mark indignantly.

"Ok then. But _I'm_ going," said the professor, with a smile in his voice. "But I know **you** really want to."

"Shut up, Tom," snapped Mark. He looked at his watch on his desk. "Ok I need to go now. Seeya at home." Collins said his goodbye and hung up the phone. Mark rubbed his eyes and sighed. Two hours later, he gathered up his files, the brain scans and his briefcase and left his office. He got into his car and drove himself home, which was empty. _Collins must have just left_, he thought., Once he got inside, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table with the brain scans in front if him.

"Ok we have a blood clot here…..and the blood vessels…….and the tumor seems to be exerting substantial pressure on the brain and destroying her respiratory function……" Mark blinked at the scan in front of him, as he stated the obvious facts. "So it looks like…….we have……a glioma." He paused, thinking of what to do next. Finally, he sighed and removed his glasses, tossing them on the tables. He couldn't bring himself to concentrate on his work, no matter how hard he tried. His eyes slowly traveled to the window outside, where the Life Café was. He picked up the scans one more time, but when his concentration still didn't come to him, he finally got up from the table and went to his bedroom. He chose a pair of blue jeans, a green sweatshirt and a brown jacket from his closet, which he put on. He reached out to pick up his car keys and then suddenly stopped. _What if someone steals it while I'm inside?_ he thought, and so decided against it. He exited the apartment and made his way to the station, where he caught the subway. He got off at the right stop and walked towards the Life café, where he found Collins standing at the door.

"Well, look who's here," said Collins with a big grin.

Mark scowled. "Shut up, Collins. I'm just here because I couldn't concentrate on my work and I needed a break." He shifted from one foot to another. "What are you doing outside anyway?"

The professor grinned. "I was waiting for you, since I knew you were gonna come." Mark sighed.

"Whatever. Let's just go in."

And so the two of them entered the Life Café. Mark's jaw suddenly dropped when he saw the whole place filled with young kids dressed like hippies or bohos, drinking beer and talking loudly across the room. Scanning the room, his eyes suddenly fell on Roger and a bunch of people arguing with the manager about the tables. After a quick squabble, they all started pushing the tables together and sat down. Roger giggled with some of his friends when his eyes suddenly fell on Mark and Collins.

"Hey Doc, Collins, you came!!" he greeted them with a huge smile. "C'mon sit down. I want you to meet my friends." Mark and Collins walked closer to the table where Roger shook each of their hands.

"Roger, how are you?" mumbled Mark and he shook Roger's hand.

"Ohhh, I'm good!! Man, that was a great show!! Here." He beckoned to a bald, skinny black man sitting across the table. "This is my friend and roommate, Benny. You remember him from the ER room, don't you?"

"Of course. Hello Benny," said Mark to him. Collins shook his hand and greeted him too.

"Pleased to meet you guys," said Benny courteously.

Roger then brought a beautiful, Hispanic girl, who looked no more than 20, with long, wavy black hair, and wearing a short skirt, black sweatshirt and black leather boots. "This is my ex-girlfriend. She helped me bake the cookies."

The girl smiled shyly. "Oh Roger, you flatter me too much," she said in mock-modesty. "Hey guys."

"Hi there. I'm Mark and this is my friend Collins," said Mark hesitantly as he took in her appearance. _She's probably either a stripper or a hooker_, Mark thought with a shudder.

"Hi. Nice to meet you. They call me Mimi," she said demurely with a smile. "I work at the Cat Scratch." From behind her emerged another form dressed in loud, flashy clothes.

"Oh, and this is my friend Angel Dumont-Schunard," said Mimi as she introduced the newcomer. "She likes to be called 'she'"

"Hey guys!!" said Angel as she gave them a warm smile and a wave.

But Mark and Collins just stood there with their eyebrows ten feet in the air and their jaws hanging wide open. This 'girl' was clad in a flowery dress, red jacket, green tights and huge platforms, with a short black wig and perfectly applied makeup. She looked amusedly at the two of them.

"What?!?" she said with a giggle. She looked directly at Collins. "You okay honey?"

"I'm afraid so," said Collins, who suddenly came out of his stupor. He shook his head rapidly. "I'm Tom Collins. But friends call me Collins."

"And I'm Mark," said the doctor hesitantly. "Umm, are you….?"

Angel giggled. "Technically, I'm a drag queen, which means I'm a guy, but I'd prefer to be a girl, as you can see," she said with a wink.

"Well, you look really nice as a girl," said Collins dreamily.

"Why, thank you," said Angel with a smile and a small blush.

Roger suddenly broke the silence with a clap. "Ok guys, let's have some drinks!!" he yelled, and the six of them all settled themselves at the table. Mark sat next to Roger; Mimi sat on his other side with Benny, and Collins sat across from them next to Angel. The waiter then approached the table and said:

"Ok guys, what're you ordering?"

Roger ordered a cheeseburger, Collins ordered spaghetti with tofu balls, Angel got a Caesar salad, Mimi ordered nachos, Benny ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and Mark, unsure of most of the items on the menu, just ordered a garden salad.

"And what'll you have to drink?" he asked as he scribbled the orders on the pad.

A loud chorus of "WINE AND BEER!!" resonated throughout the café, which startled Mark. Roger giggled and patted him on the back.

"Us folks are pretty cool and laid-back around these parts, Doc. They may act kinda crazy sometimes, but don't worry, they're harmless. You can just relax."

Mark crinkled his forehead as he sipped his wine. "But how can you be so relaxed all the time?"

"Because that's what we do," said Roger, chugging down his beer. "We're bohemians." Just then their food came. Roger picked up his cheeseburger and took a huge bite. "We live La Vie Boheme. The Bohemian life."

"Yeah!!" echoed Mimi, while chewing on a corn chip. "No rules, no laws, no society, no race, no boundaries. We can do whatever the fuck we like!!" she yelled the last bit out.

All the patrons of the restaurant yelled "YEAAHH!!!" to her comment, followed by a few whistles and cheers. Mark shook his head and speared a piece of tomato into his mouth. He looked over to Angel and Collins, who were smiling and buried deep in conversation. He smiled at them and continued eating his salad. The rest of the meal was spent in small, pleasurable chatter.

* * *

Once the meal was over and the plates were cleared, Angel picked up her wine glass, jumped up and yelled, "Ok guys!! Time for toasts!!"

One Asian girl in a fuzzy pink top picked up her glass and yelled, "To Maya Angelou!!"

Another young man lifted his glass and yelled, "To rice, beans and cheese!!"

Angel lifted her glass and yelled, "To yoga!!"

Mimi jumped on the table and yelled, "To the stage!!" and did a little booty dance, which caused everyone to wolf-whistle at her.

Roger was next to jump on the table and he yelled, "To Langston Hughes!!" and chugged some more beer.

Collins, unable to resist, jumped on the table and yelled, "To Actual Reality!! Act Up, Fight Aids!!!" This made the crowd cheer uncontrollably.

Roger motioned to Mark to come up on the table, but Mark refused shaking his head. He just stood quietly at the corner of the table and watched the rest of the gang go crazy. Roger grinned and then yelled, "To Bob Dylan!!"

Another young girl yelled, "To Buddha!!"

Two guys with their arms around each other yelled, "To sexual freedom!!" which got the crowd whistling again.

Roger and Mimi looked at each other with huge grins, and then yelled, **"VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!!!"** and then Roger finished the last of his beer and slammed the glass onto the floor, where it broke into numerous pieces, which got the hugest round of applause from the crowd. Everyone then jumped off the tables, totally oblivious to the café manager's rants about the mess and the commotion.

Roger walked up the Mark, who by now had his mouth hanging wide open in shock. "See, told you we were crazy folks. But not to worry," he said, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "We're nice folks."

Mark suddenly shook his arm off and stared at him, yelling, "I can't believe you!! You made me come all the way here for this freak show??"

Roger stared at him in disbelief. "But….but….I……."

"Don't even start, Roger. You really think I'm gonna fall for this uncouth rowdiness?? I can't stand this place, I can't stand the noise and the people and the smell, but most of all, I can't stand _you!!_ " he bellowed. This caused Mimi, Angel and Collins to turn around and look at them.

"I'm sorry, Doc. I didn't mean to," mumbled Roger, his head hanging.

"Whatever. Just get out of my sight. I've had it with you," growled the young doctor. Roger looked over at his friends, then at Mark, then just quietly slunk out of the café and onto the street without saying a word.

There was an awkward moment of silence amongst the small group. Mimi and Angel exchanged glances and walked away. Benny stared at the floor. But Collins' glared at Mark.

"I can't believe you," said Collins.

Mark stared at him. "What?? What are you talking about??"

Collins approached him, his footsteps sounding in rhythm with the thunder that rumbled up in the sky. "I just can't believe you did that. What the fuck is wrong with you, Mark?? Why did you have to hurt him like that??"

"Why not? The guy just pissed me off and I hate him anyways!!"

Collins snorted. "Hate him?? **Ha!!** You really expect me to believe that bullshit?? You like him, Mark!! That's exactly why you yelled at him. You just don't want to acknowledge your feelings for him."

"For your information Collins, I'm glad I yelled at him. He's a prick!!"

"Yeah! A prick who was nice enough to bring you cookies, and take you on a fun date, and give you a toy that _he_ won, and go to the opera with you, and actually help you whenever you needed it! Oh, I'm so glad you yelled at him!"

"Shut up, Collins!!" yelled Mark, who was now really angry. "For once in your life, just shut up! I do not like him!"

"Oh really? Then why don't you go and tell him?" taunted the young professor.

"What?"

"You better go and tell him yourself that you don't like him, Mark, or else I'm not gonna believe you."

Mark stiffened. "Okay, fine," he huffed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed open the café door. He stood outside in the rain and thought about how he felt. He shuddered at the sound of his own words ringing in his ears. _Do I really hate him that much?_ He thought to himself.

_Of course I do._

_Don't I?_

_Should I go and tell him then or not?_

* * *

So, what should Marky do now?? Review me and I shall bring 


	12. Confessions Of An Emotiopath

Hey guys, sorry I've been away again. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the story. I'm just having my crimson river is all. It's not good to write when you're in that period of time. So anyway, on with the story……

* * *

Mark trudged down the street, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. _I can do this_, he said to himself. _All I have to do is tell Roger that I don't like him and that I want him out of my life. That's not so hard, is it?_

"No, not at all," he mumbled to himself. The sky darkened rapidly and the rumble of thunder shook the entire sky, which was then illuminated by the flash of lightning. The lightning was then followed by a drizzle, which made Mark frown. _Better do this quickly. Before I drenched_, he thought. _Come on Roger, where are you?_ He turned around the corner of the street when he suddenly saw Roger sitting on a bench at the bus stop. Mark sighed in relief.

"Roger!! I've been looking everywhere for you!!" But there was no reply. "Roger!!"

Roger just sat there, not moving an inch, staring at his feet.

Mark went closer and stood right next to him. "Roger, look. I don't……I didn't mean to…..I was just….." he paused, taking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt you. I really did enjoy the dinner, and the dancing and all the….."

Roger suddenly cut him off, his head still staring at his shoes. "It wasn't just tonight, Mark. Every time I see you, you're always annoyed and angry; whether it's something I say or do. I try and I try my best to make you happy, and what do I get? More insults and anger from you." He slowly turned to face Mark, his voice low and thick with emotion. "What am I doing wrong, Mark? Just tell me." He got up off the bench and stood in front of Mark, as the drizzle suddenly turned into rain. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Mark stared at Roger, his lip quivering. "I'll tell you everything, Roger. The truth is, I really enjoyed it when you took me to the amusement park, especially when you gave me the stuffed dog. I was really happy when you came to the opera with me at the last minute. I was so touched when you brought me cookies when I was feeling sick. I really did want to come tonight to see you. And I really did enjoy myself in there. I've enjoyed every moment I've spent with you." He stopped to take a breath. He felt his warm tears mixing with the cold raindrops on his face. "I kept yelling at you so many times, but not because I hate you…….because, I didn't want you to know how happy you made me. I didn't want you to know how special and wonderful you made me feel every day. I didn't want you to know that I'd rather be with you than my uncaring boyfriend." He took a step closer to Roger and looked him straight in the eye. "I didn't want you to know how much in love with you I was, so I tried to hide it. But now I can't anymore. I'm so sorry for everything, Roger. I never meant to hurt you at all."

Mark sniffed as he and Roger stared at each other. The rain got heavier and was soaking them to the bone, but they didn't care. All they could see was each other. And then, Roger slipped his hand around Mark's head, pulled him close and pressed his lips against Mark's lips. Mark responded immediately, his lips and tongue moving in time with Roger's, as the two of them slowly snaked their arms around each other and closed off all bodily distance between them. And suddenly, everything felt just right, like it was meant to happen. Mark raked his fingers through Roger's wet hair while Roger gently stroked his back. After their tongues gave each other their final caress, their lips broke apart to inhale some much-needed oxygen. Roger smiled and gently ran his thumb over Mark's cheek.

"You know, that was all I ever wanted from you, Doc," he said. "I loved you from the moment I saw you in that emergency room, and I've wanted you ever since. All I wanted was for you to love me back. I really believed it would happen until you yelled at me in there, and then suddenly I lost all hope. I was hoping to God you'd come looking for me, but I didn't think you would."

Mark smiled and wrapped his arms around Roger's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Roggy. I wish I hadn't hurt you the way I did. I really love you."

"I love you too," whispered Roger, kissing him on the forehead. Mark smiled and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek, until he suddenly realized something.

"Oh shit, it's raining," he cursed.

"Umm, I believe it's been raining for some time now," mumbled Roger with a giggle.

Mark grinned and smacked his arm playfully. "C'mon, let's go to my place."

The two of them got onto the subway and walked up to Mark's apartment, upon which Mark quickly ushered Roger into the bathroom.

"Here, put these on," said Mark, tossing him a grey t-shirt and pajama pants. The rock star dried himself and his hair off, put his wet clothes in the hamper and put the dry clothes on, then exited the bathroom to find Mark sitting on his bed, dressed in a white pullover and blue track pants. His blond hair was tousled oddly and his glasses lay folded on the side table. He smiled shyly at Roger and pulled the corner of the blanket open. Roger smiled back and got under the covers, and Mark followed suit. The two of them settled themselves comfortably in the bed and turned to face each other.

"Wow, this is amazing," said Mark. "Who knew that my only love would spring from my only hate?"

Roger giggled and squeezed his hand. "Ahh yes, good ol' Romeo and Juliet. You know, I never thought that story was relevant until I met you. Two souls destined to be together even though their situations keep driving them apart." He kissed Mark on the forehead. "But as long as you're with me, I'll make sure that we will never be apart. Never. Because I love you, Mark."

"And I love you, Roger. I always have," whispered Mark as he moved in to kiss Roger. The two of them held each other tightly shared a warm kiss before gradually drifting off to sleep in each other's arms, as the rain pattered soothingly against their window.

* * *

Here it is, guys!! This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it?? WOOHOOO!!!

But wait...what about Mark's evil boyfriend?? -cue in the dramatic soap opera music-


	13. An Affair To Remember

Sorry for the delay guys. I was just in a cabaret show, which was so much fun. And now, here is my update…..

* * *

Morning rolled by. Mark's eyelids fluttered rapidly as the sun shone through the window and directly onto his face. He stretched his body and willed his eyes to open fully. He turned his head to the other side of his bed to find it empty, which suddenly made him sit up on his elbows. _Did I just dream the whole thing?_ He wondered to himself. He tried to trace the events of last night, whatever he could remember, when he was interrupted by a low, purring "Good Morning, Doc."

Mark turned his head and suddenly saw Roger exiting the bathroom, with his tousled hair and his pajama pants but with no shirt. He smiled widely at Roger, who smiled back as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Mark threw his arms around Roger, hugged him tightly and mumbled, "Good morning yourself" into his shoulder. He then pulled back and kissed Roger's lips hard and firmly, then moved on to kiss his cheeks rapidly.

"My oh my, that's the warmest morning greeting I've had in a long time," said the rock star with a chuckle.

Mark pulled away and smiled. "Well, why not? After how you warmed me last night….." he said seductively as he winked at Roger. Roger grinned back and kissed his forehead.

"So, what do you wanna do today?"

Mark thought for a moment. "Well……..does the Life Café serve breakfast?" he asked.

"Of course it does," said Roger, taking the hint. "C'mon, let's get dressed then. I don't think they'll appreciate us showing up there like this." Mark smiled at him and went into the bathroom to shower.

* * *

A half hour later, they were both dressed and ready to leave, but were still in the midst of a heavy make-out session in the bedroom when they suddenly heard the key turn in the lock. That was then followed by heavy footsteps and a loud voice booming, "Yo, Marko boy!! You up yet??"

"Yes Collins, I'm here!!" yelled Mark from the bedroom. He detangled himself out of Roger's arms, quickly got up from the bed and went into the living room to greet his friend. Collins grinned at him.

"Well, good morning' Sunshine," said Collins in his usual warm style. He went into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. "You want one?"

Mark declined. Collins got his coffee and plopped himself down on the couch. "Did you manage to sleep well? Man that was one helluva storm last night!!"

"Yes I know. But I slept alright," said Mark, who was suddenly interrupted by Roger's footsteps. Collins eyes widened several times, his cup frozen halfway to his mouth, when he saw this uncouth rock star coming out of Dr. Mark Cohen's bedroom, of all places. He stared at Roger, then at Mark, then at Roger again, which resulted in a very awkward silence for 5 minutes. Mark cleared his throat.

"Collins, this is Roger. Roger, this is…..oh, what am I saying?? You already know each other!!" babbled the young doctor, his cheeks beginning to turn pink.

"Yes we do," said Collins slowly, looking at Roger, who was also looking a little flustered himself.

"I'm uh…….I'm just gonna…..grab my guitar….from the other room. I need to….to make sure that it's…..you know, working, and stuff", he mumbled shyly before quickly darting to the other room. Collins dumped his forgotten cup on the table and turned to Mark, his face breaking into a huge grin.

"Alright boy, spit it out. Tell me everything," he said, his eyes animated like a 13-year-old girl. Mark blushed further this time.

"What's there to tell?" he said.

"Don't play dumb with me, Mark!! What did you do? Did you tell him how you really felt? Did you apologize? Did you two do it?"

Mark stiffened just a little bit. "Yes, yes and no, definitely not. We just slept together. You know, like, we had our clothes on and stuff." By this time, his face was as red as a volcanic apple.

Collins, by this time, could not wipe the smile off his face. "You see?? I was right, wasn't I?? Huh?? Wasn't I????"

"Don't say it, Tom!! I know what you're gonna say!! Don't say it!!"

But it was too late. Collins was now standing on the couch singing, "Told you so, I told you so!! Told you so, I told you so!!" Mark started chasing him around the lounge room, throwing cushions at him, but Collins just started giggled. Eventually, so did Mark, who flopped down on the couch.

"Yes, you were right the whole time. I just realized my feelings last night and so I told him. I felt really, really shitty about how I behaved last night and I had hurt him so much too. I'd forgotten what a sweet guy he was." Collins plopped down next to him.

"That's what I'm talkin' about, Marko. I'm glad you finally saw the light," said the professor as he patted Mark's back. "And now, I'm gonna hit the shower." But something made Mark sit up in his chair.

"Say Collins, where have _you_ been all night??" he asked.

Collins paused dramatically for a minute. "Well…..let's just say I met an angel last night," he said with a wink and a wicked grin before disappearing into the bathroom. Mark's eyes widened this time.

Roger finally came out of the room with his guitar case in hand. "hey, ready to go?" he asked Mark.

"Yes Roggy, I am," he said, with a smile. He got up and slipped his arms around Roger's waist, who slipped his own arms around the smaller man's shoulders. They were just about to share a little kiss when the phone rang. They ignored the phone and shared their little kiss when the voice on the answering message made Mark's blood run cold.

"_Hey Mark, it's Alistair. Uhh, sorry for not calling you earlier. I wanted to but…..it's just work, work, work. I've had a really rough week. Been too busy. You know how it is. But I, uh….I got ya lots of cool stuff. Oh well, gotta run. I got a 5 hour conference to attend. Talk to ya soon, babe. Bye!!" _and then the line went dead.

Mark stared at the phone, then at Roger, then his eyes fell on the floor. He turned away from the rock star and stood against the wall. Roger approached him from behind.

"Mark, baby, what's wrong?" he asked as he slipped am around his shoulders. Mark remained silent, as a few tears slowly rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh Roger, I completely forgot about Alistair. How am I gonna break this to him? He's gonna be so angry," he slowly turned and faced Roger.

Roger sighed. "Well, it's up to you. Do you want to stay with him or with me? Whatever decision you make is fine by me," he said quietly.

Mark smiled through his tears. "I want to be with you so badly, Roger. Why don't we keep this as our little secret?? I won't tell him and neither will you. When the time is right, I'll break it to him."

"Isn't that cheating on him?" asked the rock star.

"Yes, I know," said the young doctor sadly. "But I don't know what else to do. I'm doing it just to keep him happy. I don't want him to come home after a trip and find out that he's been dumped. It's just not fair. I love you so much, Roggy. Can you do this for me, please??" He gazed into his love's eyes.

Roger smiled and gently wiped away Mark's tears with his fingers. "Okay baby, if that's what you want, I'll do it," he said. Mark threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly, even crying just a little.

"Hey hey heeyyy, it's okay Doc. I'm here for you. I always will be." He gently patted Mark's head. "Now, how about that breakfast?"

Mark smiled and took his hand and the two of them walked out of the building and down to the Life Café, to enjoy the first date of their affair. If only love were that easy…………..

* * *

My oh my, what has Mark gotten himself into?? _–snickers-_ Just asking, is called an affair if either party is not married to somebody else??

BTW, I just turned 22 on Monday. YYAAYY!!! Now I have to act like an adult. _Bleh_…..


End file.
